Never Let Me Go
by OneDreamADay
Summary: When Sherlock was two, he disappeared. Seven years later, he reappears and those around him struggle to help a deeply traumatized boy.
1. Discovery

Prompt Fill: Moriarty kidnaps wee!Sherlock, traumatizes him, then dumps him outside Lestrade's house, who tries along with his friend John to help the kid. John gets attached to Sherlock and eventually adopts him.

Fair warning: This hasn't been brit-picked and no beta has looked at it. Feel free to point out any errors.

* * *

The morning starts out normal enough- or what is now Lestrade's version of normal, following his divorce from his now ex-wife.

He wakes up, washes and tries (often failing) to find something to have for breakfast. Most days, it's a simple cup of coffee. It's not much, but it helps when he's had little to no sleep the previous night.

Lestrade struggles though most of the day. A case has turn up on his desk in which a man was murdered and there are loads of suspects that want the man dead. He has Donovan start questioning the suspects while he looks through evidence again, hoping something stands out and they can quickly close this case. (That doesn't happen, though they manage to narrow down the list to ten people- mostly family members that have some sort of grudge against the dead man.)

He heads home at the end of the day, grabbing another coffee and some takeout, knowing he's going to burning the midnight oil trying to figure this case out.

He stops quickly in his tracks when he sees there's a young boy sitting on stairs leading inside the house.

Lestrade's first though is that it's his neighbor's kid and the boy has locked himself out of his house again. But as the man approaches closer, he can see that the hair is too dark, and the frame is too small.

The boy in front of him is at least six or seven years of age, with a shock of dark curly hair that stands out against his quite pale looking skin and he looks a bit of the malnourished side. He has on a thin white t-shirt and gray cotton pants- but no sneakers or socks on his feet at all.

'_Runaway, maybe,' _is Lestrade's first thought, or perhaps a homeless child separated from his parents for whatever reason. But it doesn't explain the pale complexion-

"Are you Detective Inspector Lestrade? Greg Lestrade?" A small voice break him from his concentration. He nods and the boy digs into his cotton pants, pulling out a folded piece of paper. "'M suppose to give this to you." He hands over the paper, eyes focused on the ground, as if he's trying not look the man in the eyes.

Lestrade unfolds and reads:

_**I've grown tired on my little pet. I've decided to return him to his previous owners, or you can keep him, seeing as you have been helping look for him over the past six years. It might take a while for him to readjust, so try and be patience. I even trained him for you!**_

_**-M.**_

He rattles his brain, but he's not putting the puzzle piece together yet the 'six years' comment ring a bell, but he's not sure who the boy is-

"Sherlock," The boy speaks up, and it's almost as if he's reading his mind.

Lestrade snaps his head up and instantly the boy's head lowers his head to the ground. He continues to speak, though his body is rigid and tense, as if he's preparing for something. (To be hit, maybe?)

"My name is Sherlock Holmes,"

Lestrade eyes widen in shock because suddenly it's all making sense now. Sherlock Holmes was a boy who went missing just after his second birthday, in an outing at the local park. There were no clues, no one saw anyone suspicious at the park and no one saw the moment the boy was abducted.

After his parents were clear in any wrong doing, and having no new leads, the case went cold very fast. While most of the community gave up the boy for dead after a year or so, his parents never gave up searching, along with their other son, Mycroft. He took the active role of keeping the search for Sherlock alive after the death of their parents.

Lestrade was placed on the case on the day of the disappearance and constantly looked over it whenever he was able too. To be honest with himself, he was on the edge of giving up hope of ever finding the boy alive and was instead prepared to find skeletal remains somewhere.

"You're Sherlock Holmes," Lestrade repeats numbly, barely believing the miracle he has prayed six years over, has actually happened.


	2. Meetings

Thank you to everyone who has favorited and followed this story! Glad to see people are interested in it.

* * *

_Mycroft declines to go the park with Father and Sherlock and instead, the eight -year-old stays with Mummy to have afternoon tea with her. They have his favorite: fruit scones with clotted cream while Mummy has a few egg and cress sandwiches._

_Everything is going fine when the phone rings, breaking their small chatter. His mother excuses herself and answers it. Mycroft continues to nibble at his, not really listening to the conversation when a shocked gasp escapes his mother's mouth. He looks up in confusion while his mother talks in an almost hysteria tone._

_After what seems like forever, his mother hangs up the phone and Mycroft can see the tears in her eyes (it's the first he has ever seen her cry- though after this day, it won't be the last.)_

_He tries to ask Mummy what's wrong, but he's handed over to a maid and she keeps him in his room for quite a while, trying to distract him with toys and sweets._

_Policeman quickly fill inside the house, asking his mother and himself a bunch of questions. A few hours later, his father returns- without his brother._

_After what seems like forever, his parents take him into an empty room and telling him that Sherlock is missing._

– - - – - - -

It's in the middle of the night when the house phone rings, jarring Mycroft out of his sleep. He fumbles around for his phone before answering it. "Hello?"

"Mycroft? It's Detective Inspector Lestrade."

Suddenly he's awake, forcing himself to become more awake- it must be important if the DI is calling this late at night.

"We found your brother. He's alive."

Mycroft lets a lump form in his throat, not sure if he wants to shout or cry out of joy. Instead he manages to squeeze out. "Is he alright?"

Lestrade lets out a sigh. "Just come down to the station. I'll explain everything there."

There's an age generated photo of Sherlock that Mycroft sometimes likes looks at.

It shows what Sherlock might look like today, with a mess of dark curls and an impish smile. Mycroft likes to imagine his brother would be the out-going type. Quick to make friends and into some type of sport.

But the boy in front of him is a far cry from what he'd imagine. This Sherlock is meek and quite; he doesn't speak unless spoken to, with his eyes down. Though one of the office had given him a soda, Sherlock has yet to touch. He's underweight and his growth is stunted, making him look much younger than he actually is. (He has the height of a seven-year-old when he's actually nine- years-old

But other than giving his name and when he was placed at Lestrade's, he doesn't given any other information. Not where was being held, not the name of the person who kidnapped him. He couldn't give his age, nor the year or date.

A doctor has looked at Sherlock and lists his findings in a report:

Contusions on arms, back of left and right legs and bottom of foot; healing of a periorbital hematoma (black eye) of the right eye; left arm shows signs of a previous healed fracture. Various healing bruising cover patient's body.

It doesn't say much on paper, but reading between the lines, it makes Mycroft's blood boil and he wants to punch someone- preferable the person that did this to his brother.

Instead, he takes a deep breath in, breathes back out and enters the room his brother is in.

- - - –

The moment the door opens, Mycroft can the tension in Sherlock's body. He gives a hesitant glance before returning his eyes to what seems to be his normal position of looking down.

The elder Holmes take a place sitting across from the younger and he tries to process how exactly how to start. _'Do you know who I am?' _is what he wants to say. What comes out, however is:

"Hello, I'm Mycroft."

A nod. Then softly, "I know that."

Mycroft smiles a bit. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Mr. Lestrade said that I have an older brother and that he was coming here." He licks his lips hesitantly before adding: "I know that you're at least in your teens, you live by yourself and you have poor sleeping habits."

Mycroft blinked. "Why do you say that?"

Sherlock looks up at him for a moment. "Your clothes are horrible wrinkled. Normally, if you have parents or if you lived with a girlfriend, they might iron clothes your clothes for you or that might make you do it. You have dark circles under your eyes, which shows that you don't get much sleep. And Lestrade mentioned your seven years older than me, which makes you fifteen."

It's all rattled of in an indifferent tone and at such a fast tone that Mycroft can barely keep up with.

"Anything else?"

"I know one of the officers, Donovan is having an affair with some other guy. They both are wearing the same deodorant, even though it's for men. And Lestrade's divorced: there's a mark for a wedding ring, even though he not longer wears it."

Mycroft stares at the nine- year- old. "You figured all that out by yourself?"

A nod.

"No one told you anything?"

A shake of the head.

"How were you able to pick up on all of that?"

"He taught me."

"He? The person who took you?"

The young boy doesn't answer. He pulls himself into a ball and doesn't answer any other question for the remaining time Mycroft tries to talk to him.


	3. Bond

Of course, the sudden reappearance of a long missing child doesn't go unnoticed and when Lestrade arrives at work the next morning, there are a few reporters outside the building looking for information.

"They've been out there since early this morning," Sally Donovan tells him as she hands him a cup of coffee. He's had to sneak into the building, not looking forward to talking to any reporters this morning. "They look like a bunch of vultures hovering over a kill."

After downing his coffee, he prepares a quick statement of how the family needs their privacy and that they are not releasing any kind of information case regarding Sherlock nor the details about his reappearance.

Later, when he's going over other case files, one of the newer officers comes to congratulate him. "Heard you were dead serious about never giving up on this case. Bet you're glad it worked out well in the end."

But he can't stop thinking how frighten and timid Sherlock is; how, maybe, if was able to find him quickly, Sherlock would not have been so traumatized and maybe his parents could be here to be reunited with their son.

All in all, it's a victory- but it feels like a very empty one.

* * *

Sherlock hates being here, in this foster home.

Everything is too bright, too loud and it puts him on edge. He's used to almost absolute silence; to stark white walls. He's used to orders being given to him and learning not to talk unless you're being talked to- and even then, getting permission to talk.

He's used to not eating for days on end; on the days he's fed, it's always porridge, or something similar to it.

Suddenly, everything is completely overwhelming Sherlock does the only thing he can think of that is a comfort to him: he goes into his room, curls into a ball and wishes he was elsewhere.

* * *

He's made to go see a therapist twice a week, but Sherlock refuses to tell her anything about the time during his disappearance.

Instead, he points out that she's functioning alcoholic (_smell of sherry wine in the room, empty bottle of wine hidden poorly in the trash bin) _who has a very strained relationship with her daughter (_there's a photo of her daughter on her desk, but it's at least ten years old. Plus it's dusty, meaning she rarely looks at it) _who has chosen her career in hopes she can use it to repair the relationship between the two of them.

She doesn't say anything in response and doesn't acknowledge that statement for the remainder of their session, but for his next appointment he's assigned someone else.

* * *

"I want to go home," he tells Lestrade, who has come to visit him. "I don't like it here."

He's aware that he gets strange looks whenever he says that, but it's the truth. Sherlock hates how -even when he was hoping for some type of freedom back in that house- the moment he has it, he doesn't know what to do with it.

Lestrade sighs. "Your social worker told me you were lashing out at people. And that you have seen three different therapists in two weeks. The first one dropped you on the first day."

"She was trying to talk to me about my problems, but she can't face her own issues."

"What about the other two?"

Sherlock doesn't say anything, and Lestrade isn't sure if it's because Sherlock is starting to shut down mentally, or if he simply doesn't want to answer that question. It's probably a mixture of both, so Lestrade thinks it's wise to switch topics.

"You just need time to adjust to your new life," he says. "Everyone involved just wants to help. That's all."

Sherlock frowns at him. "I don't like it here."

The DI tries to give a reassuring smile. "I'll try and see if I can pull some strings."

* * *

_He's locked inside a wooden box, and all he wants is some water. He's not sure exactly how long he's been in The Box, nor can he recall the reason. He's long since stopped begging to be let out, knowing that crying and begging usually incurs a longer punishment._

_It's extremely hot inside The Box, with little air, and sweat dripping from his skin (he had tried the idea of licking the sweat from his body, in a desperate attempt to get rid of his thirst, but learns it doesn't help at all.) The boy thinks he will probably die when the door slowly opens. He greedily sucks in fresh air into his lungs as he's pulled into a hug, a hand brushing his sweaty hair away from his forehead. _

"_Now then, Sherlock, have we learned our lesson?" The Man is smiling, as if he is enjoying this._

"_Yes, sir."_

"_Good. What have you learned?"_

_But Sherlock can't think of the reason of why he was placed in The Box, or for what action he did to incur the punishment._

_And He can tell that Sherlock doesn't remember. Instantly, there's a cold, hard look on his face and Sherlock knows he has messed up._

"_I think," He says ask he pushes the boy back in the box and locks it, "that you need another day in here to refresh your memory." _

_This time, he cries, screams and begs to be let out._

* * *

His eyes snap open, breathing heavily. It takes a moment to process where he is because for a moment, Sherlock is sure he's back in _that _house. He fights the hold someone has on him because he's sure he's going back in that box to be punished and he's sorry, sorry, sorry-

"Sherlock, c'mon, it's alright. You're alright,"

Mr. Lestrade is gently rocking him back and forth, murmuring to him. Eventually, Sherlock stops struggling, but the DI continues to keep rocking him and Sherlock lets him and they stay like that until he is calm.

Since neither of them can go back to sleep, Mr. Lestrade ('you can call Greg, you know.' The man reminds him, but Sherlock isn't quite that comfortable yet) makes them both tea and they watch whatever's on the telly until the two of them fall asleep on the couch.

This is how they spend their first night together.

* * *

For breakfast the next morning, Lestrade makes something he thinks a kid might like: pancakes, eggs and toast, and apple juice to drink.

When Sherlock finally wakes up, Lestrade makes a plate for him, and then goes into his bedroom to take a phone call.

When he returns, he finds Sherlock's plate untouched.

"What's wrong? Aren't you hungry?"

"You didn't tell me I could eat," is the reply.

* * *

It takes almost a week for Sherlock to start speaking somewhat comfortable then and even then, it is with a hesitant tone.

He also learns that Sherlock hates hugs. He immediately tenses up and will hold his breath, like he's bracing himself.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Lestrade tells Sherlock when this happens. "I promise I will never hit you or hurt you in any kind of way."

* * *

They are out doing the shopping, Sherlock and Lestrade when they pass a display for some stuffed animal and Sherlock finds himself staring at them because it would be nice to have one, he thinks.

The man catches Sherlock staring, and instead of getting annoyed like Sherlock thought he would, Lestrade offers to buy him one.

Sherlock picks out a stuffed bee; after it's brought, offers a small thank you and a faint smile, the first one Lestrade has seen.

Lestrade also buys him a night light, to help with Sherlock's fear of the dark. Between that and the stuffed bee, (Sherlock names it Sherriford,) bed times become a bit easier to deal with.

* * *

Lestrade sometimes wonders just what he has gotten himself into.

He's volunteered to keep Sherlock for a few weeks or so, at least until an acceptable home situation be placed for the boy.

But it quickly becomes apparent that he completely out of his league in regards to dealing with Sherlock's many issues, despite the slow progress that has been made.

Mycroft stops by occasionally, and he slowly starts to build a relationship with his brother. (As with everyone, Sherlock regards him with wary eyes.)

It's a slow start.

But it's progress and Lestrade's glad for it.


	4. Photos

Doing my best to catch all typos and grammatical errors- but I'm really rubbish at English, so having a beta would be appreciated.

* * *

_There's a huge shift in the family in the days, weeks and months after Sherlock's kidnapping and Mycroft, in his mind, labels it Before and After._

_Before, they were a happy family. Before, there were bedtime stories and visiting Father at work with Mummy and Sherlock so that they could bring him lunch. On some days, there were family outings at the park for a picnic, he and Sherlock would throw bread for the ducks, and Sherlock would shriek with joy because he thought it was great fun. Sometimes Mummy would prepare the food herself instead of having the cook make it (Which Mycroft liked best of all because Mummy was the best cook ever.)_

_Then there is After, and everything changes drastically. _

_After, there are television interviews and the constant presence of the police around the house. He goes from being simply Mycroft Holmes to being Mycroft Holmes- the boy with the missing brother and it's a label that sticks- to the point where he's doesn't even have a name- just the boy with the missing little brother._

_His relationship with his parents shifts too. Overnight, his mother becomes overbearing- wanting to know where he is at all times. When he is ten, his mother gives him a mobile and with it comes the rule that he must call and check in with her every hour. She dislikes him going into overly crowded places where they cannot keep an eye on him. _

_The first time they go to a fair (striving for somewhat for normally) when Mycroft leaves his mother sight to use the loo, he returns to his mother in the middle of a panic attack.) _

_ His father, on the other hand, becomes much less strict. He buys Mycroft whatever he wants and tends to indulge him more. He also heavy drinks more often and that is the cause of many arguments between his parents late at night. He goes through a heavy depression stage and is put on antidepressants, but he rarely takes them._

_The relationship between his parents become tense- although it's not said out loud, Mycroft can tell Mummy blames Father, to a degree- for the abduction of his brother. Slowly, the marriage disengages and one year after their younger son's kidnapping, his parents' divorce silently and with little fanfare._

* * *

Getting Sherlock out of the flat- and away from Lestrade, much less- takes almost the better part of an hour; it involves a lot of cajoling, and a promise from Lestrade that he will be there when Sherlock gets back. Even then, Sherlock is a bit reluctant to leave.

Sherlock's fear of going outside is a new development; though it might be related to his separation anxiety. Mycroft isn't too sure.

Finally, Mycroft gets his brother to agree to go to the park with him, since it's close to the flat. When they get ready to leave, Sherlock runs back to his room and returns clutching a stuffed bee close to him.

"His name is Sherriford," Sherlock informs him and Mycroft agrees that it is a very fine name for a bee.

* * *

The two of them are spending Saturday afternoon at the park. It's the same park the two of them would go to when they were much younger, Mycroft tells him and Sherlock thinks Mycroft chose it simply out of some kind of nostalgia that Sherlock wishes he could remember.

"What was your mother like?" Sherlock asks.

"_Our _mother," Mycroft corrects him, and Sherlock frowns at that because he does not really see it that way, "was a lovely person. Father was too, though he was very strict after- "He trails off and Sherlock understands what comes after that.

"What was I like? You know, before?"

Mycroft smirks a bit. "You were loud and annoying, at least to me at the time. And you used to throw your food at me. You always seemed to find that funny."

Sherlock smiles; Mycroft returns it, then starts to dig through the backpack he brought with him. He pulls out a manila envelope and hands it to Sherlock. "I figured I'd bring them with me. Thought you might like to see them."

Sherlock opens it and pulls out what he realizes are photos, quite a few of them.

There's one of both Mycroft's parents (_their parents, Sherlock corrects himself)_ on their wedding day. It's easy to see that Sherlock has inherited his dark curly locks from their mother; while Mycroft favors his father in terms of features.

There are more photos: A few of them are of Mycroft as an infant and of various stages growing up; some of them must have been taken when Mycroft started school because some have are him in his primary school uniform.

There are a few of their mother throughout her second pregnancy; a few of them have their parents smiling next to each other.

Then the photos are of him as a newborn, being held by a seven-year-old Mycroft and by his parents; their mother in a lush looking garden holding Sherlock while Mycroft stands next to her, beaming proudly; Sherlock on his first birthday, icing and cake smeared across his face as he smiles at the camera.

Neither of them bring up the issue that Mycroft hasn't included whatever photographs that might have been taken on his second birthday.

Overall, it's a quiet way to spend the afternoon. Mycroft does most of the talking and Sherlock simply listens.


	5. Story

Greg places the tape recorder on the table, in view of Sherlock.

"If you get uncomfortable at any time, we can stop."

Sherlock nods his head in agreement, face set in determination.

Greg would be lying to himself if he said he were surprised by this. Sherlock had woken up that morning, saying that he wanted to tell the whole story of his kidnapping and Greg grabbed at the chance.

Mostly, because he feared Sherlock would back out and then they would be back at square one- with no information at all to go on.

But Sherlock starts talking and finally, Greg gets the whole story of what happened.

And it horrifies him.

* * *

_His first, clear memory is of a dark room. He's hungry and cold and the mattress he is forced to sleep on lacks sheets. He's stripped down to his underpants and that's all he's been given to wear._

_The door opens and it's The Man is standing there- the ever present smirk on his face._

"_If you're done with all that crying, I might be nice enough to let you eat something. Won't that be good?"_

_Sherlock nods in agreement but there's a jarring slap to his face._

"_What have I told you about manners, Sherlock?"_

"_Yes, sir, that would be good."_

"_Good boy."_

* * *

_He has no concept of time, and it's hard to form one, when he's placed in a dark room at the time._

_The windows are boarded up, and no sunlight reaches through._

_He hurts, everywhere. Sherlock is sure doesn't have a clear memory of when he wasn't in some kind of pain._

_He curls up in a ball the best he can and does the best he can to fall asleep._

_At least when he's dreaming, he doesn't have to worry about being hurt in some way._

* * *

_Over time, their relationship changes a bit. _

_Sometimes, there are bedtime stories and sweets._

_The meals don't change, but they come at a more regular schedule._

_It makes Sherlock very confused, but it doesn't voice it._

* * *

_There is cake placed in front of him, and Sherlock is both excited and fearful of it._

_Sherlock doesn't touch it at first, not until he's given permission to. Shyly, (and forget the rule about not speaking unless told to) he asks what's it for._

_The Man smiles at him- he doesn't bring up the broken rule, but they both know it will come up later in form of punishment. _

"_Today is a celebration," He explains, petting Sherlock's hair. "It's been a year since you started to belong to me."_

_The same thing is repeated the next year. And the next after that. Sherlock still isn't sure what it means._

* * *

_Sometime, he wonders what The Man is to him. The Man constantly refers to himself as Sherlock's daddy. The boy has no idea what to make of this either, but he accepts it because it must be true._

* * *

_Sherlock stares at the heavy book is placed in front of him. _

"_Today," The Man tells him, "you and I are going to do some studying. I think the two of us can do with an easy day."_

_Sherlock lets himself be hopeful- a day without any being hit or being punished for something small sounds almost too good to be true._

_The boy opens up the first page I hope that brain of yours will pay attention will soak up everything like a sponge because there will be a quiz later."_

_For missed answers, he's forced to kneel on a pile of uncooked rice- an hour for every question he got wrong. Later he 'graduates'; made to hold heavy textbooks while kneeling on the rice. Some days, if The Man is feeling partially sadistic, it's salt instead of rice._

_The salt digs into his unhealed wounds and burns._

_It quickly becomes the most feared of all the punishments he's made to endure._

* * *

It's after telling this event that Sherlock stops talking, telling Greg that he's tired and wants to lie down.

Greg lets him, digesting what he's just been told.

Then, after a few hard drinks, he picks up the phone and makes a call to one John Watson.


End file.
